


dolce

by yamswrites



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Pining, Trans Elias Bouchard, Unhealthy Relationships, elias wants to tear peter apart and i think thats very romantic of him, sire/fledgling relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamswrites/pseuds/yamswrites
Summary: Elias is an ancient beast of bloodlust and barely concealed savagery, but that does not mean that he does not feel. He tucks those human feelings away far beneath the surface— a chest at the ocean floor, rotting in cold darkness.Peter is his.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	dolce

**Author's Note:**

> my first fic posted in the fandom and 1. its a vampire au 2. its named after a hannibal episode. if u know me u know im ridiculous and dont read me for it I Know LMAO
> 
> i put the dead dove tag bc i wasnt sure how to tag this and i just wanted ppl to avoid the fic if it isnt their scene. so if i missed smth lmk??
> 
> note: elias is trans. words used for his genitals are cock and cunt.

Elias is an ancient beast of bloodlust and barely concealed savagery, but that does not mean that he does not feel. He tucks those human feelings away far beneath the surface— a chest at the ocean floor, rotting in cold darkness.

Peter is his. Elias gave him the Dark Gift many years and moons ago. Peter lives in solitude, he is akin to a tiger. He only comes around to mate. Elias never knows when or how this will be. Peter has no cycle. He just appears, catches Elias around the waist and claims his prize. He can be rough or soft. He takes Elias or allows Elias to take.

Those tepid blue eyes never give away much, but Elias likes the way they widen when his teeth tear past skin and spill blood. It doesn't matter if their mating is rough or not, they always end up covered in red. Elias likes it. He likes the way it swirls down the drain. He wonders if Peter too watches it wash away, if he presses his bruises and bites, and thinks of him in their sweet ache.

Elias does.

But he locks those feelings into the chest and throws it overboard to sink beneath the waves.

"It's almost daylight," Elias says one night, more words than stay, but more detached. As if it's mere convenience. He convinces himself the bubbles are not escaping the chest and floating to the surface.

Peter is his beast of blood lust and barely concealed savagery. Not nearly as ancient, but ten times as capable of inflicting such strange loneliness upon Elias. Oh, Elias can be cruel, but his cruelty exists in a different fashion.

Peter says nothing, but he does not leave. He lays down, leaving a cold space between them. Somewhere between strangers and estranged brothers sharing a bed, cold and clinical, but with warmth beneath the blanket. Neither of them sleeps a wink, but both pretend. Elias evens out his breathing, playing the sleeping sire. An hour later, there is a rustling of clothing and Peter creeps out the bedroom. The front door opens and closes, and cold sets in.

It's unbearable. It's many cold nights, many moons later when Peter appears again. He is rough. He bites, drawing blood. He fucks Elias like it's their last, his handprints are left on Elias' hips for Elias to trace in the bathroom, testing their sweet ache as the blood swirls down the drain.

It's unbearable.

Peter returns sooner than later, a few moons between his last visit. Elias bites and claims him, fucks him and paints bruises on his hips in return. Payback for last time Peter left him cold.His nails are long— almost claw-like, digging into the meat of his hips, wet with blood. His teeth sink into his nape. Peter is quiet usually, but tonight he very nearly howls his pleasure.

Elias has some restraint, however.

Elias wants to tear him apart, to lay and live in the valley of his bones and veins, his red bloodstains turned black in the moonlight. He wants to pluck Peter's tepid ocean eyes and wear them, forgoing his spring green. He grunts, fucking Peter harder. His teeth grind into the nape of his neck, a moan low in throat as the blood explodes on his tongue. He wants to drain him, wants make Peter weak. He wants to keep him here, imprison him in this glided cage.

He doesn't.

Elias does not ask Peter to stay, but he does. He draws the cigarette from Elias's lips. He inhales a breath he does not need and exhales a cloud of smoke. It curls from his lips, and leans in. They do not kiss often, and not usually for long. This time Peter lingers, licking the blood from Elias' mouth.

He stays the night. Closer to Elias. Peter must've recently fed. He is warm. He does not even complain when Elias presses his face against his neck. Elias' hands twitch, but he does not give into the urge to press them to Peter's skin. He is patient.

The time between visits grows smaller and smaller, as does the space between them.

Elias has never asked where Peter goes, or what he does. He is unsure if he cares to know, or if he would want to.

Peter kisses him that night, catching him around the waist. He lifts Elias in his arms and carries him into the bedroom. Elias kisses and nips at him, wet and wanting. His cunt clenches, empty. How badly he wishes to be filled. Peter set Elias down on the bed. Elias spread his legs, surging up as Peter leans down to kiss him. They do not need breath, but there is something exciting about the gasps and pants escaping each other, old Human habits die hard. Their breaths are all that is between them because soon Peter undresses and then slips Elias out of his clothes with near effortless efficiency.

"Fuck me already," Elias growls, it's breathless and said between biting kisses.

Peter bites back, catching Elias' bottom lip between his teeth as his big hand slips down his flat chest, running over slivery scars. Peter's fingers spread him open, and he ducks his head down to see. Elias wants to urge him on already, but then Peter's hot breath falls on his cunt, moments before his mouth descends there. He sucks Elias' cock, his blue eyes aglow in the moonlight spilling from the window. His big hands have Elias' thighs pried apart and hold them there. Elias' hips buck, grinding his cunt against Peter's mouth, and his hands tug at his hair.

"Peter, if you don't— _fuckkk_ …"

Elias' eyes roll back, the heat in his gut uncoils and blooms. Peter licks him through his orgasm, even as Elias gasps no, but he didn't say red, and he doesn't want to. Peter's fingers slip into him, one and then two. Thrusting in tandem as he licks and sucks until Elias is shaking and it's almost painful but it's so, so good.

Peter fucks him after that, long, hard strokes. It's slow. His eyes sometimes meet Elias' gaze, but Peter doesn't usually like eye contact. His eyes close. He bruises Elias' hips. He bites. Elias bites. They are stained red. They fuck until dawn is breaking.

Peter shuts the curtains.

He follows Elias into the bathroom and watches the blood swirl down the drain. Peter presses the bruises and bites he'd left, watching the way Elias leans into their sweet ache. He kisses his neck.

Peter stays.

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on twitter under @yamswrites, i post art & i'm planning on posting more writing stuff there too


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